Emmi picked herself up and sprinted back toward the castle, screaming for help, only to be seized around the neck by a burly arm that reached out from the cover of bushes.
Coughing and choking, Emmi was dragged backward by the smelly assailant. Then he spun her to face the way she’d come.
Splattered in blood and breathing hard, Kaemon stood amid the corpses of the dead assassins.
The unknown man’s arm fell to her shoulders, and Emmi gasped for breath.
Kae rushed forward. An instant later, a wakizashi was against her throat.
“Drop it,” the man ordered.
Kae let his sword fall and took a few steps closer.
“And the other,” the man said.
Kae dropped his own short sword.
Emmi didn’t see the tanto tucked into Kae’s belt, but she was sure he had the dagger concealed somewhere.
“Let the girl go,” he said, advancing slowly, his hands held out at his sides.
The man laughed. “I’ll do that just long enough to kill you.”
Emmi waited until the man lowered the sword from her throat. He pushed her aside, but she kept her balance and kicked his knee with all the force she could muster.
Kae was on the man the instant he fell and plunged his tanto into the man’s heart.
Emmi watched with grim fascination as he wiped the blood from his blade onto the dead man’s clothes—that was, until a bobbing light in the distance caught her eye.
“There are more…” Emmi said.
He turned to look over his shoulder. “It’s all right. They’re Tokugawa guards,” he assured her. He picked up his katana, shook off the blood, then sheathed the weapon. “Come with me.”
Emmi followed. A chill skimmed down her spine as she stepped around the blood-soaked patches of ground surrounding the bodies of the first assassins. Nakagawa Kaemon, who couldn’t be that much older than she, was taking this all in stride, as though he’d done it before.
A weird silence engulfed Emmi and she looked around, realizing that she could smell the scent of the dead men’s blood. Her stomach lurched and she ran for the cover of bushes, making it to their edge just before she heaved.
She was on her knees after the spasms passed, and jumped when Kaemon knelt beside her. He gently rubbed her back, relaxing her.
“Let’s get you back inside.”
He helped her up, placed his hand around her shoulder, then tilted her chin up. His fingers brushed lightly across her neck. “The bastard cut you.”
“No worse than you did when you thought I drugged you,” Emmi said, pulling away.
Kae stepped into her path. “I’m sorry.”
“So you said.”
Emmi brushed past him and started back toward the Shinjukus’ quarters.
Kae wanted to be angry with her but couldn’t. In fact, he was more impressed than anything. She’d handled herself well tonight, better than most women would have. The way she’d brought the last man to his knees had been extraordinary. While he knew many women who could wield the spear-like
naginata
, he’d never known one who could use any type of kenpoist moves.
Still, he doubted that the Maeda taught their women to fight like men.
The Shinjukus were waiting outside for their arrival. Shinjuku-san’s wife took Emmi inside immediately, while Kae conferred with her husband.
The older man dropped to his knees and bowed low. “Forgive me, Nakagawa-sama. The guards will be censured for not catching them the moment they breached the walls. If any of them is found to have been an accomplice, he’ll be dealt with severely. I will inform the Shoshidai of my failure myself. I will commit seppuku if so ordered.”
“Matsudaira-sama will not order that. I will speak to him. The men were after me specifically. They must have followed me, and probably were following me a long time to have found a way to sneak in between patrols.”
Shinjuku-san looked up. “But who would be after you?”
“Anyone wanting to distract my father long enough to harm the emperor.”
Shinjuku gasped and stood, stepping in close enough to whisper, “You don’t think someone would try to harm him, do you?”
“I think the rebels will do anything to overthrow the shogun and attempt to assume control. Anything.” He paused and glanced down at his bloodied clothing. “Could I trouble you for a bath and something to wear? I can’t go home looking like this.”
Shinjuku-san bowed. “Of course.”
* * * *
“I think he left, child,” Mrs. Shinjuku told Emmi. “My husband went to report to the Shoshidai, and I have no idea where Nakagawa-san is. I didn’t see him in the kitchens where he usually sits.”
Emmi sighed and sipped her tea. She swirled the last of it in the small, handleless cup then looked up.
“I wonder what I should do, then. About a place to stay. I have no money and nowhere to go…”
Emmi remembered her pendant. Her father had given it to her when she was tiny. She’d worn it every day since, and it was like a part of her. The thought of selling it made her ill all over again, but what choice did she have?
Forgive me, Daddy
.
Emmi removed the pendant and showed it to Shinjuku-san.
“Do you know of any place I might sell this? It’s been in my family a very long time, but it’s all I have of value.”
The older woman took the necklace and studied it. “It is beautiful, possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Emmi tried to smile through the pain flooding her soul. “That’s our family crest on the front, and the dragonfly on top of it is just like the one Toshiie had on his golden battle helmet. On the back, you can see the names of the eldest sons and the eldest daughters that they gave the pendant to. I’m the last one. The last one…”
Shinjuku-san handed the pendant back to her. “You cannot sell this. You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow, I may be able to have you kept on as part of the staff. If not, I’ll help you find work.”
“I hate to impose on you.”
The older woman shook her head then brushed the stray strands of hair back from Emmi’s face as a concerned aunt might. “It’s no hardship.”
Emmi placed the pendant back in Shinjuku-san’s hand and closed her own over it. “I want you to hold on to this until I can repay your kindness.”
“That isn’t necess—”
“It is to me.”
Shinjuku-san nodded. “I will lock this away. Why don’t you go to the bathhouse and relax in the tub for a while? I’ll send one of the twins with something clean for you to wear.”
Although she knew it wasn’t quite proper for this era, Emmi got up and hugged the older woman. “Thank you.”
As she walked the short distance from the kitchen to the bathhouse, Emmi let down her hair and began untying the knots Kaemon had used to fasten the hakama. Emmi stepped inside, set the door latch and allowed the hakama to fall to the floor. Kicking the garment aside, she undid the knot in the obi fastening the yukata, and froze when someone—a man—cleared his throat from behind her.
Emmi spun around, clutching the yukata closed.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, scanning the dimly lit room until she saw the wooden screen in the right corner.
Kaemon stepped out wearing only a fundoshi, the Japanese equivalent of underwear that resembled a Native American breechclout. It was a red fundoshi, no less.
“What are you doing here? Shinjuku-san said you’d left.”
“Obviously, she was mistaken.”
Emmi pointed to the door. “Go. Now.”
“I was here first.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
A grin played upon his lips. “What will you do if I choose not to leave?”
“I’ll pull off your fundoshi.”
He laughed and came to stand before her. “Do it.”
Damn. He would be the type to call her bluff.
A knock sounded on the door, followed by the voice of one of the twins. “Emiko-dono. We have your things, but the door is locked.”
Emmi motioned for Kaemon to get behind the screen. He shook his head no. Emmi grumbled, then went to the door and opened it just far enough to grab the fresh sleeping yukata.
“We can help you wash your hair.”
“N-no. I’m fine, but thank you.” Emmi closed the door and placed the clothing on the stool.
She turned and promptly bumped into Kae, who’d snuck up behind her.
“I can help you wash your hair,” he said, toying with the loose strands. “Or your back,” he added, allowing his hand to slip down and caress her spine. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Or I can wash your front…” His voice trailed off as he ran the tip of his tongue along the side of her neck.
A flash of heat shot through her and made her squirm, but Emmi had the presence of mind to place her hands on his chest and push him back.
“Oh no you don’t.”
“What is that?” he asked, prying her yukata farther apart with his fingers.
Emmi groaned and pulled the edges of the yukata together again. “It’s my underwear. You have your fundoshi and I have my…bra and panties.”
“Brrra… Pan-tees,” he said.
Her face flushed. Emmi nodded. He made it sound so…obscene, yet exciting.
“That’s what we call ’em.”
Kae stepped close again and gently tugged the edges of the yukata again. Try as Emmi might, she found she could not control her traitorous fingers, which simply let him.
I told you guys this was a bad idea
, Emmi silently reminded her fingers as Kaemon slid his large palms across her lace-encased breasts. She bit back the moan that tried to escape when he teased her further by running his index finger all along the top edge of the bra cups.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I do. I like it too much.”
He chuckled and bent down, allowing his tongue to retrace the trail his finger had made moments before. She groaned.
“You have to stop. Please.”
He pulled back and looked at her. His dark eyes glowed with desire as his hands settled upon her hips. Emmi shivered when his fingers drifted down to tease her skin just beneath the edges of the panties.
“You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No, and that’s why I need you to stop.”
His grip on her tightened, and he brushed against her. The thin layers of fabric separating them did even less to conceal the hardness of his erection than the multiple layers of clothing had earlier.
“Do not take me for a fool, woman. You are no virgin. Not with the way you kissed me today, not with the way you let me touch you now.”
Emmi’s mouth grew dry as morality and primal need began to war within her. She slid her hands to Kaemon’s strong shoulders in a vain attempt to keep him at bay.
“I’m not playing you for a fool. I’ve touched guys before, let them touch me, but I am still a virgin. Things are different where I’m from, but… I wanted it to be right…to be special…”
Kaemon stared down at her. Even in the dim light from the floor lantern, he could see undeniable truth shining bright in the depths of her warm brown eyes. She hadn’t been bedded. She was eager for more yet afraid of the consequences.
Nevertheless, he was a man, a prince of the blood. He could have any woman in the land in any way he wished. Even if she was a daughter of the Maeda, no daimyo had the power to deny him.
He wanted this woman with every fiber of his being.
And he would have her.
He pulled her fiercely against him. He slid his fingers up her back, her neck, tangled them in her hair and tugged her head back to kiss and nip the flesh of her throat. She whimpered as he worked his way down, kissing and licking the delicate skin just above her strange undergarments.
He lifted his head, turned his attention to her mouth. She parted her lips without any coaxing. Her tongue sought his first, and she wound her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him back so fervently that his body ached and strained against the confinement of the fundoshi.
He kissed her throat again. She sighed his name. The words drifted in a soft, mewling sound. He kissed his way back up her neck and pulled her into a crushing embrace. She grew bold, flicked her tongue across his shoulder.
She whispered close to his ear, “I’m afraid. Promise you won’t hurt me.”
Kaemon’s inborn sense of duty and obligation reined in his lust. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to take what should be his. For the life of him, he didn’t know why.
Chapter Fourteen
Emmi gaped in surprise when Kae pulled away and began throwing on his clothes. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
“I don’t want a woman who thinks I take my pleasure from her pain.”
“I didn’t mean—”
It was too late. He left the bathhouse in a rush, banging the door behind him.
Her body was still warm and tingly from his kiss. Emmi breathed a sigh, then locked the door and undressed. She slipped into the large wooden tub, not caring that the fire beneath the bathhouse had died down, allowing the water to cool. It was just the kind of wake-up call she needed, and she’d be damned if she made the same mistake again.
* * * *
Kae didn’t take his usual route into the Imperial Palace. He went via the direct route and straight to the main entrance gate. He put up with the Choshu guards’ critical inspection of his identity papers, though it galled him to do so. If it were the last thing he did, he would see to it that the dogs of that domain were removed from Kyoto once and for all.
Far too often they tried to allow their leaders to sneak in and beg an audience with the emperor or someone close to him. They succeeded enough to bend the ear of Nakayama Tadayasu, the maternal grandfather to the emperor’s twelve-year-old heir, Mutsuhito.
Unfortunately, there was no empirical proof, only speculation on the part of his father. But Kae completely trusted his father’s judgment in the matter. As long as Mutsuhito was a child, he would need a guardian—a regent to advise and counsel him—should he happen to ascend the throne. And to whom would that illustrious honor go? Nakayama-sama, of course. Kae suspected Nakayama might be quite generous with those who’d made a positive impression upon him—such as those rebel swine.